


Red Wild Card

by HandSocks



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Modern Boy in Thedas, Sexual Tension, Some Fluff, will try to write half decent smut at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-01-18 04:24:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12380832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandSocks/pseuds/HandSocks
Summary: A Modern Boy in Thedas? And he isn't even a nerd? Yes and Yes. When August Walker gets onto a plane to head to his parents for the holidays, he doesn't expect it to crash, and for him to wake up naked on the beach of the Storm Coast.





	1. Life is a Beach

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Set In Darkness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11766738) by [ShannaraIsles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShannaraIsles/pseuds/ShannaraIsles). 



> I don't write fan-fiction a lot, the desire just hits me from time to time. This time it was because of another author here on the site, the lovely ShannaraIsles, who has written an awesome "Modern Girl in Thedas" Fanfic (which I did link to, please go read it <3) and I just had to throw my own hat in the ring after I reading it. I don't have a beta, so if there is some odd wording or a spelling mistake or two, forgive me.  
> Hope you guys enjoy!

Everything burned, every nerve on fire and yet some how he stayed silent in his agony. August wanted to move, the intention was there, but ability illuded him. Muffled sounds made it through the haze of extreme discomfort and his mind latched onto the unfamiliar sounds. A few memories filtered through, there had been an accident…. He had been on a flight to… somewhere. The sounds became clearer as he began to return to relative consciousness, voices, and he strained to understand what was being said. Gibberish, all of it, and his confusion started to give way to panic. August couldn’t bring up much with the pain taking most of his attention, but he was sure whatever flight he had been on, it hadn’t been a flight out of Canada. While he was only fluent in English with a tiny smattering of French, he had lived in too many of the large cities across the northern country not to at least identify a few others, Korean, Chinese, Spanish…. The list was a little longer than that, but there was the sensation of his skin being on fire that hindered his ability sort out the words of the figures standing around him. 

More memories came back as his mind shuffled through events, trying to bring itself online, trying to do what instinct was already working at. Surviving. 

It had been a simple flight back east, from a small town near the coastal city of Vancouver to his parents house in Nova Scotia. He must have been on route only an hour and a half, barely taking him towards the edge of his current home Province of B.C. The plan was to spend the weekend with his adventure loving family in the small wilderness a few hours from his childhood home. Rock climbing specifically was the family passion and all three of his siblings, including him as the youngest, loved it, breathed it and the outback lifestyle that went along with it. But… he hadn’t made it. The plane…. He couldn’t remember if it had been weather, pilot error, a mechanical failure as he had fallen asleep and he was the type of sleeper who would sleep through anything. 

Well, he certainly hadn’t died in his sleep, his current condition told him that much, not that he was doing anything beyond existing. The gibberish got closer, and he felt his consciousness jerk alive at the familiarity of two of the voices coming towards him. 

Being that his family was outdoors oriented, one wouldn’t think that August had the time to sit in front of a computer. But he had managed to pick up a game series now and then, when taking a break from the regular responsibilities of his young adult life, one of them being Dragon Age. The last one, he in fact, had just finished a day prior to hopping on that disastrous plane ride, DLC and all. The voices, he must be in shock and hallucinating, sounded like two very familiar characters: The Iron Bull, and Krem. 

He opened his eyes, and a dark, cloudy day greeted him. Rain poured from the sky, soaking him, and he presumed that if he hadn’t been in so much pain, he’d be feeling the cold right about now. It was then he realised… he as naked as the day he had been born. Well, shit.

A handsome face came into view, different then the computer rendered image of Krem, but similar enough that there was no mistaking the mercenary and then he felt his voice almost push a sound past his lips as Bull stepped into view. Yes, the Bull was huge in game, but he was enormous to August in this moment and he wasn’t a small man. He locked eyes with the less intimidating Krem, who smiled, nodded and asked a question. Gibberish, again, he couldn’t make out a single word said. August guessed at the intention, as he wasn’t a threat, as weak as he was, that the question most likely involved his current state of health. August blinked, water falling from his long lashes, and attempted to move, just a little. An arm, yes, just an arm, he would try to move his right arm. Nothing. The panic truly hit him then, and he took a large gasp of air, voice weak as he tried to express his building terror. Krem looked worried at the softness of his voice and the lack of movement. The mercenary turned to his captain, speaking hurriedly. Bull responded, crossing his arms for a moment, clearly thinking. Probability had him guessing they were deciding if moving him would kill him or not.

The discussion didn’t take long, and it wasn’t like August could muster the strength to ask them to give him a little more time to adjust. (translation: stop hurting so much) He desperately hoped that the fact he felt pain just about everywhere meant he wasn’t paralyzed, he could deal with a broken arm or leg, but… not a spine. Not here in this world. Bull reached down, taking his shoulders, while Krem took his legs. 

It seemed that he had landed up on the shore of the Storm Coast, looking as if he was a victim of some ocean disaster. Which would turn out to be a boon for him as it gave him a plausible reason as to why he was injured, naked and mostly delirious. Speaking of being injured, if August thought he had been in pain before Bull and Krem started carrying him to their camp, it was nothing compared to the utter agony of being moved by the mercenaries. He blacked out for what seemed like mere minutes, waking up again, and noticing the daylight had shifted. August mildly wondered just how long he had been out this time, but he was more curious about how during those lost hours he had gotten dressed. Someone had struggled him into a tunic, and a pair of leather pants, leaving a cloak and a pair of boots beside the small bedroll he now occupied. All of it was handmade, repaired several times over and was slightly tight against his athletic frame. How they got the pants over his wet skin… he had no idea, nor did he really want to know for that matter. 

August found his voice, groaning and tried once more to move, something, anything. It was a slow, careful movement. He had been in major accidents before, patience and caution first before trying to really get up. Bringing a hand up to his eye line took more effort than he wanted it to, but the pain was a soft echo compared to the intense suffering from hours earlier. The skin of his hand was unblemished by any sort of wound, the dusting of freckles familiar, winding their way up his arm. Comforted by the lack of injury so far, August kept inspecting, eventually gritting his teeth and sitting up. He was whole, still stiff and sore, but healthy. First worry now out of the way, he started to wrap his head around his current predicament.

He was in Thedas. 

“Well, shit.” He whispered, feeling overwhelmed. How would he get back? Could he even? Or…. was this a dream? A highly realistic rendering of his mind, while he was stuck in a coma in a hospital somewhere? August realised he had no answers, and if this was truly real, any chance of him getting home, or explaining his predicament was slim to none. A calm settled over him then, and just in time as the tent flap was pulled back and The Iron “fucking” Bull squeezed his way into the tent. They stared at each other, silence drawing out to the point where August started feeling that awkward squeamish feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

The Bull spoke, a question he was sure.

Body language is all they had, and possibly a lucky guess or two. He gestured to himself, “August.” and then motioned towards Bull, raising his eyebrows in question. Bull tilted his great head, said something, another question if the tone was any indication. August shrugged, “I have no idea what you’re saying.” The huge warrior stilled, looking truly confused and August could understand. This was Iron Bull, the Ben-Hassrath, who knew what he was seeing from his perspective. The spy was trying to place August, find out who he was and if he had been anyone else, Bull probably would have had no issue whatsoever. As it was, Bull would have only been able to draw that he was a healthy, strong, young man who had washed up naked on the coast. Not much to work with really. August wondered if his curly red hair, fair skin and over abundance of freckles made Bull think that he was from anywhere specific? Did it matter? He couldn’t speak any languages in Thedas, so whatever Bull had previously thought, the moment August spoke, those assumptions would have changed.

It was then his stomach made itself known, and the Bull chuckled lightly, pointing to himself, “The Iron Bull.” and then gestured for August to follow him outside, saying something else, possibly (hopefully) mentioning food. Getting up took quite a bit out of him, but August felt steady enough to follow the Qunari out of the tent, getting into his boots and swinging the cloak around his shoulders. It was of course, still raining, but they were in a heavily wooded area, making the downpour less oppressive. True to the game, each of the band of “Bull Chargers” stood around the small camp, each occupied with their own task and only a few glanced his way as he moved towards the cookfire. After being handed food and taking a seat August was left alone, the various members of the band ignoring him completely. Bull and Krem stood apart talking quietly enough that the rest of the crew didn’t hear them, and while August could it didn’t matter. 

The food was bland, but warm and edible. It would be something to get used to, the lack of sugar, salt and fat that modern food was stuffed full of, wasn’t to be found here. It silenced his growling stomach and gave him a bit of a second wind. Bull moved, raising his voice only slightly, and the band moved to gather around their captain. Krem on the other hand sat down beside August, telling the redhead his name and stating …. Something. August sighed lightly, frustrated at the language barrier, while at the same time knowing it really wouldn’t help to get upset. Then Krem switched languages, possibly saying the same thing, and waited a beat, trying a third language after that. 

Nothing even sounded familiar, and shaking his head, August bowed his head over his mostly finished meal. Krem turned to Bull speaking quickly, Bull turned to Dalish, their mage who, at whatever question Bull had asked, shook her head. If August were to hazard a guess, Bull had asked Dalish if magic could put a language into his head, clear up this language barrier quickly, with little fuss. It didn’t surprise him that the answer was no, and he was a little relieved, he didn’t know if magic would be different when used on him… He didn’t even know if he could enter the Fade in his dreams like most of Thedas.

Bull huffed, looking impatient and somewhat disappointed, he came over to the fire and took a seat beside August. It looked like they were going to have to do this the hard way, he was going to have to learn Common, one frustrating step at a time. 

Well, Shit.


	2. Luck of the Draw

The sound of steel hitting steel rang through the small clearing, along with shouts of “Again!” and “Focus!”. August was drenched from head to toe, the rain unending on the Storm Coast, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he would have been just as soaked had it been sunny. For hours now they had been going through drills, and August (as fit as he was) couldn’t deny he was exhausted. Between the language lessons and his lessons with the large two-handed monstrosity that Bull silently paced in his hands earlier this week, it was amazing he got up in the morning at all. While he was tired, there had been progress, and after spending close to a month with the Chargers, he almost felt as if he belonged. Had he caught onto the language quicker, August was sure that Bull would have given him a weapon much sooner, but he never had been good at second languages. 

It was like pulling teeth really, and at times it felt like his mind was a sieve, keeping some knowledge and throwing everything else out the window. But he kept at it, stubborn to master it, knowing that things would only get easier the more he could speak and understand. He had more success learning swordwork if he was honest with himself and had made much bigger gains with the weapons training. It encouraged him that he may not always be helpless and possibly at one point, be able to fend for himself if the need arose. “Alright, looks good Chargers, take a break.” Bull looked pleased, a rare occurrence. August let the sword drop, and ran a hand through his hair, getting the bangs out of his eyes. It was getting a little too long for his taste and wondered if he could possibly ask someone for a pair of scissors. 

Bull came up to him, his own sword in hand, “Alright, time for the test.” August tilted his head in question. He could understand far more of the “King’s Tongue” or Common then he could speak at this point, so he cheated with exaggerated body language.

Bull raised an eyebrow and August huffed, “What test?” he asked, the accent clear as he tried to enunciate properly. “To see if you will join the Chargers, Grim saw some ‘Vints on the coast, time to see if you’re ready to hash it out. I’m sure you probably won’t die….” Bull smiled, and August felt dread pressing against the back of his spine, a steady shiver worked its way up, chilling him as he listened to the Mercenary Captains words. He had to be joking! He had only just gotten the drills down, let alone even sparring with even a touch of competency.

“Just kidding, you’ll be sparring with me. Let’s see how you’ve done this week.” Bull chuckled, finding the abject fear on August’s face amusing. “Asshole.” August snapped out, smiling, not really meaning the insult. “It’s almost like you’re flirting.” Bull commented, “I like it.” August rolled his eyes, “You flirt… you breathe.” August stumbled over his comeback, and blushed lightly, pride slightly suffering. “Enough talk pretty boy. Hit me.” Bull dropped the humor and became that deadly warrior who’d happily face a dragon. 

This wouldn’t go well but, he would give his best effort and probably still end up flat on his back. Preparing himself for the pain that would certainly follow, he took up his sword and fell into a ready stance. He knew Bull was fast, he knew what the Qunari theoretically had for abilities from the game and yet as Bull lunged forward with a terrifying roar, August knew that meant nothing. He brought his sword up just in time to block the heavy overhead swing, the force almost smashing his own blade into his face. He pushed back against it, angling his sword down, disengaging and stepped back quickly, regaining his feet. Bull looked surprised, straightening out of his stance, “Nice pretty boy, most people would be dead after that. I’ll hit harder next time.”He smiled, predatory in his compliment. The mercenary captain exploded into action, movements fast and clean despite the size of sword he was wielding. Two minutes later August found himself on his back, his vision blurry from his head hitting the hard dirt. “Two minutes, that's good you know.” Dalish came over, smiling, enjoying the new guy getting his butt kicked. 

There was an odd tension between him and Dalish, he figured it was due to how she felt around him. He had wondered how magic would affect him in Thedas, being from a place where there was no such thing. August knew he couldn’t enter the Fade in his dreams, and Lyrium didn’t effect him at all, not even a tingle when he swallowed a healing potion. It was a guess at most, but he figured he felt like a walking, talking, dead zone, silence spell or Templar that didn’t need Lyrium. Dalish had tried to heal him once, a cut during practice, and the resulting terrified swearing from her, along with the failure of the spell had damaged whatever companionship they possibly could have had. Now they were uneasy allies. 

August had tried to explain in halting Common that he wasn’t some runaway Templar, but the damage was done. He didn’t have the words, but Bull, being who he was, knew that August was no Templar, and so August stayed. “I see.” August said, getting back up, giving himself a shake and faced his opponent once more.

Bull tested him for an hour and at the end August couldn’t get up. “I going to lay here for a bit.” he said, feeling nauseous. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he tried to get up, he would throw up what little of his breakfast remained in his stomach. The Qunari chuckled, leaning on his sword, “Just finding your limits pretty boy.” August sighed, “So, when do I get the privilege of not being called “pretty boy”? He asked. “When I see you in battle, after… I’ll give you a nickname. But for now, pretty boy will do.” Bull shrugged. August wasn’t pleased with the statement, but Bull was the boss and everything he said was obeyed down to the letter. 

Fifteen minutes later August endeavored heaving himself to his feet, and was for the most part successful, the dizziness only lasting a few moments. Moving over to the cookfire, careful to not let his sword drag along the ground, August set about the new daily habit of cleaning and caring for the borrowed blade. He felt a hand on his shoulder, glancing up his eyes connected with Krem’s. The mercenary was holding a jar. “Here, you’ll need this.” Krem handed him the small pot, which smelt strongly of elfroot. “What is it for?” August took it, looking gingerly at the goo. “It’s to make sure you can move tomorrow.” he smiled, “Rub that on your arms, legs and the bits of your back you can reach. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” August nodded, setting aside the goo for the moment, preferring to finish his first task before moving on. Sword cleaned, August stripped down to his smalls, dipping his fingers in the goo, and started applying the stuff liberally across most of his body. 

He heard Dalish huff in grudging appreciation. Before coming to Thedas it had been a battle trying to keep himself fit, between the richness of modern food and holding a desk job, August had to get himself to the gym several times a week to keep fit. Now with less food, sword practice, and everyday trudging around the wet and stormy coastline he had slimmed down considerably while gaining more muscle. He could feel most of the Chargers enjoying the view, and he tried to quell his embarrassment. 

Being that the day wasn’t done, he hurried back into his clothes and went to find Grim, it was their turn to do some scouting to make sure the camp was secure from roving bad guys, who could be anyone from simple bandits, to actual Venatori.

It didn’t take long to find his fellow scouting partner, as Grim liked to be on time and ready to go at all times. August didn’t like being late either, but Grim was beyond not being late, he was almost obsessive in the way he managed to keep time in a word that didn’t have the modern watch. Grim of course, just like the game, didn’t talk at all and rather just grunted with varying degrees of tone and volume to get his point across. This suited August just fine, as he had been in a similar boat for the first two and a half weeks until he finally started to catch on to a little of the language. Grim seemed to prefer him as a scouting partner due to the lack of conversation as well and August dared to think that he and Grim were almost friends, at least compared to the rest of the group.

Off they trudged into the surrounding area, communicating via hand signals and quite vocal cues that were drowned out by the rain if you were more than two feet from your partner. It was a quiet four hour journey along a somewhat familiar path and they both expected to find nothing, even though they were being alert, looking for any trouble. So the sudden appearance of a fireball took both men by surprise. Without even thinking, August stepped forward and into the fireballs path, blocking Grim from getting a nasty set of burns. The spell got with in roughly six feet of him before snuffing out completely, and in a blink of an eye not even a spark remained. Grim grabbed him by the shoulder, giving him a look of complete disbelief and looked August over, trying to find some damage. Which there was none, so Grim steered him away from the direction of the spell and took off running.

They weren’t going to head straight back to camp, rather they wanted to lead whoever launched the fireball on a merry chase first and then once getting their opponents good and lost, report back to Bull. An hour and a half of cat and mouse ensued, with August nullifying three more spells along the way, one more fireball and two lightning attacks. Apparently he could extend his “silence bubble” to Grim, simply by touching him and so while the first lightning spell was a close call, the second didn’t even tickle his scouting partner. 

They stumbled into camp breathless and pretty sure no one had followed them. August wanted to grab some water first, but Grim was set on dragging him before Bull right away. Luckily Bull wasn’t hard to find, standing by the cookfire looking thoughtful, the expression changing to surprise as Grim hussle August right on over.

Grim proceeded to grunt the story out, which somehow Bull understood. “So…. you seem to have saved Grim’s life, twice.” the Qunari said looking both curious and gratified at the same time. “It was just like Dalish.” August replied knowing Bull would finish the thought for him. “Magic… leaves at, this spot.” August used Grim’s approximate distance from him to show how big of a “silence bubble” he was in. “If I touch you, you get in.” he awkwardly tried to explain. Bull crossed his arms, becoming unreadable. August could only assume that Bull was thinking about how this new found revelation could be used to its full advantage. “Wild Card.” he said. “What?” August titled his head in confusion. “That's your name, Wild Card. And since you saved Grim.” The other man grunted, and Bull amended “Saved Grim twice, I think it is safe to say: Welcome to the Chargers.” The mercenary captain slapped him on the back as August looked at him dumbfounded. 

So did this mean he would be a part of the actual story line? Krem had been planning on heading out to Haven sometime this past week but hadn’t left yet, so chances were good that he would be among the merry band that joined on with the Inquisition. Which, depending on the choices made, could end up being… very bad. What if the Inquisitor chose to keep the alliance with the Ben-Hassrath and leave the Chargers to be over run? How would he convince said Inquisitor to choose the Chargers when the time came in the first place? The Inquisitor could be a mage for all he knew, which meant that he or she could have the same reaction as Dalish. While a part of him was glad at finding a place here amongst Bull and his band of misfits, knowing what could happen in the future chilled him as he stood by the fire.

The only thing he could think of to save their skin was to try to become the Inquisitors best friend and make it, so even with the rational advantage of sticking with the Ben-Hassrath, the moral and emotional turmoil would have the Inquisitor cut ties with the Qunari.

August didn’t know if he could pull it off, he wasn’t overly charming or charismatic. He was the quiet one in the family, the wallflower. This would be one hell of a gamble, one only he knew about. But he had to hope, for if he didn’t, what else was there?

Krem came up to Bull, “I’ve packed what I need and I’m ready to head out. Are you sure we should be getting cozy with this Inquisition lot? Seems like they might be more trouble than help.” he spoke, adjusting a pack on his back. “Nah, they are a bit out of sorts at the moment, but I’m sure this is the right move.” Bull said confidently. August, of course, knew that it wasn’t just Bull’s intuition sending Krem off to Haven, but several well hidden letters from the Ben-Hassrath, urging Bull to get recruited.

It was odd seeing the games plot in action, it had been a quiet and uneventful start, other then that horrible first day. But now the game was kicking into gear, drawing August into the narrative, to what effect was yet to be seen. Wild Card indeed.


	3. The game is up

Haven was much bigger than the game portrayed, the small huts littering the valley with the Chantry being the hub of humanity in the mountains. There were families, children chasing each other through the village and a group of old men that frequented the local tavern at anytime of the day. They would gossip and gripe about all the “newcomers”. August didn’t expect there to be so much…. Life. This only reinforced the reality of his existence in Thedas and yet he still felt baffled, lost even. There were moments when he was able to force his mind to dwell on the present, on the immediate rather than the future he knew was coming. He reveled in those moments, throwing himself wholeheartedly into whatever task he was doing. 

Since he was with the Chargers most of the time, he hadn’t had the time to sneak off and try to meet any of the main cast of the game, including the Herald herself. He only had heard she was an elf and … a mage. (Which was not helping his odds with not having the Chargers die.) He absently wondered if he wouldn’t meet her until Skyhold in the cutscene at Herald’s Rest and hoped that his luck would be better than that.

Granted he had seen a few of the Heralds inner circle, and he had no doubt that Leliana had noticed him. What gave him away, incidentally, was reporting back to Bull after he and Grim made it back from a short scouting foray in the Hinterlands. One of her agents had been near by, and heard his accent. He was next to fluent now when speaking Common, with the consistent use and the dire need for him to communicate with those around him. But August had an accent, a _Canadian_ accent, which in Thedas lore, technically didn’t exist. Next thing he knew, he had a sudden new….. Acquaintance. The young man, James, was a fine enough fellow, quite striking really, but a spy nonetheless. The only reason August even knew was because Bull told him after his first conversation with James. 

Bull had become, almost protective of August, given his unique gift and he was grateful to Bull. The Ben-Hassrath was undoubtedly loyal to his crew, and since August was now one of his men, this was the result. “Do you want me to say something to Red?” The huge warrior asked as they had been stretching, and cooling off from yet another one on one drill session. “No, ...well unless you think James is going to do something nefarious? I’d rather not die to a knife in the back.” August stood up. 

It now took Bull five minutes to knock August to the ground and for some reason, Bull was elated at the three minute increase. “No, no, I think she wants him to seduce you.” Bull said plainly. August snapped around, mouth working, “To...seduce me?” Bull cocked his head, “You do prefer men, no?” The redhead could feel the heat filling his cheeks, as he tried to unsuccessfully will away his embarrassment. “How did you know?” he asked, “Wait, how does _she_ know?” he added after a moment. Bull pointed at himself “Ben-Hassrath” and then he pointed towards the chantry, “Left Hand of the Divine.” as if that is the only explanation one needed.

Granted, it was a pretty good explanation, just a touch...short. 

“Well, ...he will have to be disappointed, I don’t sleep around, and I wouldn’t want to sleep with someone who wants to simply bed me for information.”August huffed out, crossing his arms and leaning against the stone wall that surrounded the houses closest to the Chantry. “It could be fun.” Bull shrugged. “It could, and it could also be awkwardly horrible as well. Remember neither of us are a Tamassran, James and I, all we will ever be is acquaintances. I, personally, require to have a little more going in a relationship to tumble someone.” August held up a hand as Bull looked as though he wanted to argue the point. “I know that makes me a prude, leave me and my non-existent sex life alone.” Bull rolled his eyes, but answered, “Fine. fine Wild Card, be boring.” He chuckled, grasping August’s shoulder. “But, if you do want to have some fun. You know where to find me.” August sputtered a moment, unable to event string thoughts together. Bull laughed, and walked off, leaving the poor man to the cold of the afternoon. 

“I am not ‘riding The Bull.’ ” August muttered to himself. Bull wasn’t really his type anyways, and the Qunari probably knew that. So really Bull just wanted to see August blush. “God damn it.” he heaved himself up off of the wall and started towards the Chargers little tent camp they had set up in a clearing not far from the practice area. He had his blade and gear to clean up, as well as maybe trying to have a bath. Somewhere, hopefully not in some freezing river.

It took him about an hour or so to get everything cleaned, oiled and repaired. It was odd doing such manual tasks still, his mind used to the idea of being in an office, dealing with paperwork, computers and telephones. But he truly enjoyed the change, the job was just that, a job. He didn’t like it, nor was it very fulfilling, but it payed very well. Getting his hands dirty, testing himself against the living force that was The Iron Bull everyday, and really working to bring a goal to completion. He loved it… and he hoped, he prayed that he wouldn’t wake up in some hospital bed somewhere. August knew he was changed, for good and he was a better man for knowing, learning, and being with the Chargers.

Everything packed away in his tent, August went in search of that bath. One thing about this time was the lack of hygiene. That he wasn’t a big fan of, and most of the other members of the mercenary band teased him due to his effort to be as clean as he could be. He asked a few of the footmen of the Inquisition if there was a bathhouse of sorts, which there was and August found it straight away. He brought a light blanket with him to serve as a towel and a smaller scrap of cloth to be his “scrub brush”. Soap was provided, but it wasn’t anything fancy, just the yellow tallow that made your skin burn after awhile. It was a public bath, not surprising, Thedas being Thedas, and he had mostly lost his modern sense of privacy due to well…. The Chargers. 

August picked a bucket for himself and set about cleaning the grime of the day (and possibly the week if he was honest) off of his skin. He scrubbed and dunked himself with water several times before he felt that he was mostly clean. “So, you do have them everywhere.” A smooth voice startled August out of his fourth attempt at getting clean and he turned, noticing James the Spy enjoying the view. “Yes, sometimes freckles are like that.” he commented, trying to keep his voice casual. Now that he knew what James was trying to do, it was a little easier to see and August didn’t want the other man finding out that this redhead wasn’t going to play the spy's game. He didn’t like being the mouse to James’ cat. 

“May I join you?” James asked, looking quite dashing even though August knew most of the charm was a ploy. The spy was blonde, had an angular face, was well built and graceful in form and movement. His hair fell straight as a pin to his shoulders, and his skin was mostly unmarked with only a stray mole or scar here and there. His hair was well matched by bright blue eyes that gave away nothing and asked for everything. Leliana was really good at picking the right person for the job. He just oozed sex appeal and mystery. Had August not been warned, he probably would have ended up in James’ bed sometime in the future. _“Thank-you Captain. I am going to buy you a pint tonight.”_ August thought to himself. 

“If you like, I’m almost done anyways.” August restarted his fourth go at getting clean, but he made sure to not hurry. If he changed anything from the last three times he had bathed, James would certainly notice. The other man took a seat near by and began to bathe as well. It was not a comfortable silence on August’s part, but he muddled through the mind games his own brain was cooking up with his usual stubbornness.

“We missed you last night at the tavern.” James remarked lightly before pouring a bucket of water over his head. “I’ve never been much of a card player.” August replied, feeling clumsy in his effort to appear nonchalant. He had never been good at casual banter, often preferring to listen or not to talk at all. Office chatter about work was different, it had a purpose, you generally knew what your conversations were going to be about and why you were having them. True, there had been moments where the odd comment would be made how August was standoffish because he didn’t gossip, or take part in the watercooler break like most of his co-workers did. He could only assume, the longer he was around others in Haven, he would get saddled with being the “cold and distant” Wild Card of the Chargers, when really, he was just shy.

Secretly August found that he hated the role he adopted, but he had yet to challenge that particular puzzle of his inner workings, even before he had been dropped naked, on the far side of Thedas. August was pulled out of his thoughts as James spoke again, “I could teach you, you know, I am quite good at Wicked Grace.” August looked over at the blonde, who smiled, bright eyes warm. _“And there is the hook.”_ The redhead scrambled to bring up something innocuous. _“How do people manage this? This is beyond stressful, this play acting.”_ August looked away, grabbing his last bucket of water and tossing it over his head, giving himself more time. “Thanks for the offer, but really I’m no good at cards.” He ran a hand through his hair pulling the strands from his forehead and wrang out the smaller cloth, throwing it over his shoulder. 

Standing, he walked over to where people lined up the buckets and set his along with them. August grabbed the makeshift towel and started drying himself off. As he stared dressing, simply picking up his shirt James finished his bath, the blonde copying August’s actions, moving over to him. “Let me speak plainly. Come have a drink with me tonight.” James toweled off the water running down his athletic form as he spoke, stopping to tuck the cloth around his slender hips and pinning August with a look. 

He could feel himself beginning to blush, he couldn’t help it, and even as he struggled to remain calm, he could see James’ reaction as the heat raced up his chest onto his cheeks. The spy smiled, possibly thinking he had successfully caught August in a weak moment. _“I don’t know how to make this silly situation stop… I should have asked Bull to say something to Leliana”_ August looked away for a moment and then decided, he wasn’t going to continue this charade. “Listen, I know Leliana put you up to this. I know what you are trying to do. I don’t know if you’ll get in trouble if you don’t complete your mission, or reconnaissance or whatever you want to get out of me.” He watched a look of surprise settle onto James’ face. “But, can this end please? I’m not interested, nor do I like being followed, watched.” August crossed his arms, shifting his weight, nervous as to just what James would say next. Claim ignorance maybe? It seemed like the most likely response.

“Ah, the game is up then. I guess I should have expected it, The Nightingale said to be subtle, but it looks like The Iron Bull is better than we had guessed. I’ll let her know.”James tilted his head, giving August’s naked body one more long look. “I would have enjoyed it though. Have no doubt.” His blue eyes danced with mischief, before turning and getting dressed. “See you around Wild Card.”

August let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the blonde spy was out of sight. He dressed quickly, wanting to get back to his tent, wanting some privacy to sort through what just happened. Stepping out of the bath house he didn’t really look where he was going hitting something, no someone, with enough force that instinct had him reaching out, catching the person's arm to keep them from falling. “Well aren’t you a solid specimen?” August focused on the speaker, and almost let out a squawk of surprise. Dorian. 

The tevinter mage, the one finished play through where he actually picked a romantic interest, and it had been Dorian. He had enjoyed the novelty of playing through the man’s loyalty quest while being romantically involved. He had picked Inquisitor Trevelyan, rogue, funny, sarcastic and everything August was not. This man though… this man was beyond the attractive rendering done by the bioware game developers. He was gorgeous, his skin was a luminous golden hue, his hair was pitch black and his eyes. His eyes were that dark brown that was so deep you could get lost with a glance. August’s hand tingled, as he had caught Dorian by his bare arm, and the contact was very distracting. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. If I have offended…” Dorian smiled, and August caught his breath. Dorian was too much of… everything. “No harm done, really now, no need to worry. I’m Dorian by the way, you are..?” August dropped his hand, unbelieving that he was meeting Dorian Pavus. “Wild Card, of the Chargers.” He nodded in greeting, unsure as to how people greeted each other in Tevinter. Dorian raised an eyebrow at the nickname and August found himself explaining, “Everyone in the Chargers gets a moniker, the captain is rather particular about it. August is my real name.” The mage looked intrigued, “And how did you get that particular name?” Dorian asked. Well he had trapped himself now hadn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait folks, been a busy few weeks! But I was able to buckle down and get a chapter out. I am trying to get a chapter up once a week. No promises though. :) Thank-you so much for all the Kudos and comments! You guys are awesome!


	4. So much for keeping secrets

August could tell that Bull was not happy. The redhead had managed to not blurt out his unique circumstances to Dorian, rather the defection had been rather easy to make. August had stuttered out something along the lines of “Well I’m the new guy.” and left it at that. No, Bull was probably unhappy because he was now acquainted with “The ‘Vint”. Being that Tevinter and the Qunari had been at war for who knows how long, Dorians sudden interest in August was unwelcome. Not that it stopped Dorian. The mage just appeared out of nowhere whenever August had a free moment away from the Chargers. Mostly they talked, or Dorian talked and August listened, asking a question every now and then, when he was able to edge a word in. He didn’t really know what Dorian was up to, it seemed the mage was simply lonely and needed company. Of course August was more then happy to be “the company”. Dorian was charming, humorous and well, drop dead sexy. 

Through his run in with Dorian, he had managed to meet another of the main cast: Varric. It had been about two weeks since almost running Dorian over at the bathhouse and four days since being introduced to Varric. It was now one of his favorite things to sit by the fire pit that Varric never seemed to leave, and listen to the Dwarf spin his tales after supper. All in all, it seemed that a calm had fallen over Haven as the Herald was making progress in the Hinterlands, bringing in horses, supplies and money into the growing Inquisition. Overtures had been made to both the Templar and Mage factions just like the game, with the Mage faction being the main focus, hence the presence of Dorian in Haven rather than Cole.

Things had been going so well, August hadn’t given more thought towards his “gift” and how he was ever going to explain how he was able to nullify magic without being a Templar. Bull seemed to always be aware that it could be an issue of some sort, and August found the Captains worrying to be confusing. No one was likely to throw a fireball or lightning spell at him in Haven. So he gave it little thought, until one afternoon when an inhuman scream ripped its way through the valley. He hadn’t thought about possessions and really there had been all of one line of game dialogue from Cullen that had illuded to the possibility. There hadn’t even been a proper Abomination in the entire game, so the sudden appearance of one, here and now came as a surprise.

The reaction was quick, former Templars, including Cullen, running headlong towards the disturbance. August rose from his seat by the fire. “Don’t bother Freckles. Best to let the Templars take care of it.” Varric gestured for him to sit back down. “I...I just want to make sure it isn’t Dalish.” August rushed off, not hearing Varric call after him. He doubted that Dalish would succumb to demonic influence, but he had to admit, there was a small place in his heart that he truly hoped she was ok, even if they weren’t on the best of terms. 

The scene was a gruesome one, two former Templars already were dead, another three injured. Blood strewn across the once white snow. Two children lay cowering behind the monster, who looked disfigured, too large for the garment that hung awkwardly on the Abominations frame. One of the children had… been taken over. According to lore, there were only two ways of ending this: Killing the monster and therefore the child, or do what the Warden did in Dragon Age: Origins. The later choice was not an option, there was no time for something that elaborate and so the child’s fate was sealed. 

Or was it? August paused, considering his next move, not knowing if being a living counter to magic would affect a spirit from the Fade. In theory he should cause something to happen, but what and would his intervention help or harm the situation? Also...what would it mean for his wellbeing? Bull was willing to give him a chance and ask no questions, but Bull was a special case. August decided, he had to act, even if it meant his life for the child's, a fair trade in August’s mind. He wasn’t even supposed to be here anyways. Choice made, he felt a sense of calm settle on his shoulders. Acting quickly, he burst out from the crowd, rushing past the Templar line, Cullen shouted something as the redhead made it past. 

The horrifying monster turned to face him, raising a gnarled arm, pointing and hissing a spell. A fire ball shot from the Abominations finger and just like before, it vanished within six feet of August. It screeched in rage and confusion, a collective gasp went up from the people nearby as it threw itself at August, meaning to rend him into little bits. As soon as it entered the sphere of influence around August the spirit was forced out of the child, as Earth's reality enveloped the physical form of the Abomination. The transformation was immediate, once the monster had completely stumbled into the space. Bones cracked, reforming and the voice became human as the child reemerged. The boy screamed in pain as his body became his own again, and began to tumble towards the bloody ground. August dove forward, catching the child easily, lifting the small, broken form against his chest. The child, tears running down his face, stared at August, in far too much pain to say anything. 

The redhead was stunned, this was almost what he had hoped would happen, the boy was free, but...the child's injuries were severe. ”He needs healing!” August yelled, panic clear in his voice, as he turned for help. The crowd was silent, Templars looking worried even as Cullen came forward holding out his arms for the child. August handed him over; the moment the child left his arms, four former Templars tackled him to the ground, the blood on the snow soaking his clothes. He felt like he was going to be sick. 

“Get the FUCK off of him” Bull’s voice ripped through the still air. The huge Qunari stormed up, the rest of the Chargers in tow. Cullen tried to reason with him. “Bull we do not know if he-” Bull wasn’t having it, “I know he is safe. Now. Get. The. Fuck. Off. Him.” To their credit, the four men looked to Cullen before letting August get up. “We will talk of his later.” the Commander gave the redhead a hard look before rushing the child off to the infirmary. Bull grabbed him by the arm and hauled him over to the Chargers camp. August didn’t know what to expect, the captain was silent as he pulled the young man into the clearing.

“What were you thinking?” Bull said, calm now that the crisis had passed.

“I...I didn’t want them to kill the child. Not if my gift could prevent it.” August breathed in, trying to settle his own nerves. “Any interrogation, punishment, distrust is worth going through for the sake of that boy’s life Bull, no one can convince me otherwise.”

Bull crossed his arms, and shook his head. “You have too much heart Wild Card, death comes easily in war...you can’t save them all.” 

August nodded, “I know, so I save who I can, and that boy was one of them.”

Bull huffed lightly, “No use arguing I see…” Bull turned, hearing footsteps in the snow. “You are not putting those on him.” August looked past Bull to see Commander Cullen, along with three other soldiers from the main Inquisition force, standing awkwardly. The Commander held a set of manacles in his left hand.

“The manacles aren’t going to do anything.” August said, exasperation laced his words. A slight flush found its way up the Commanders cheeks and he handed the restraints to one of the men by his side. “Will you come willingly?” Cullen asked. “Yes.” August bit out, determined to be the bigger person in all of this. He was marched into the small jail below the Chantry, though not placed in a cell, instead he was made to stand in the middle of the damp basement. August, hands loosely held behind his back, tired to appear confident as the Herald and her inner circle filed in. Bull stood by him to his left, arms across his massive chest and glared at everyone.

This was his first time seeing the Herald, standing proud and straight in front of him, she barely made it to the middle of his chest. Her wheat blonde hair fell in waves well past her shoulders, clearly having been in braids earlier in the day. Her skin was sun kissed a deep golden brown, highlighting her pale blue eyes and the green Vallaslin arching over her angular face. The silence was heavy and oppressive, all eyes weighing the man in front of them. “So, word is you forced a demon out of a child.” the Herald said softly, her voice coming out deep and smooth. “Yes Herald.” August replied. Her eyebrows rose at the accent, “Where are you from? The inflection in your speech, it is unfamiliar to me.” August blushed as he prepared to lie straight to the Heralds face. The Left Hand of the Divine shifted slightly, watching for the tell that would show him to be a liar.

“I don’t know, my first memory is washing up on the Storm Coast three months ago.” August held the Heralds gaze, knowing if he broke it, he was screwed. The small mage looked to Bull, “Thats where I found him boss, naked as the day he was born and half drowned.”

“With the skills of a Templar?” The Herald asked. His captain shook his head, “He is no Templar, he casts no spells and takes no Lyrium. Magic just … stops around him. Doesn’t matter the spell.” Bull continued, “He isn’t Tranquil either, he gets pissed just like the rest of us.” The Qunari fell silent then, and August took a breath, trying to steady himself before wading into the metaphorical minefield. “I don’t dream, since waking up on the coast. I haven’t entered the Fade in my sleep, I don’t think I can.” The Herald nodded, clearly gathering all the facts together, finally after a long moment she spoke. “It looks like we have a few things to test, first the limits of your gift, we need to find them and I will ask Solas to look for you in the Fade. In the meantime, business as usual I think.” Three of the four advisors protested at the Heralds simple choice, only Leliana kept her thoughts unvoiced. 

“Come on now, he is one of Bulls men, if Bull thought that he was dangerous or untrustworthy, I don’t think he would even be here with the Chargers.” the Herald sounded exasperated. “As you say, Herald.” Cassandra spoke, still looking troubled. “Alright, now for some fun, come with me Freckles.” the Herald tuned, gesturing for August to follow her. “Uhm, Freckles?” he stuttered out. “That is what Varric calls you, yes?” The Herald smiled, “I like the names he gives people, so I use them…” She paused and glanced up and over at him as they walked. August had made sure to keep his distance from the Herald, putting both Cullen and Cassandra between them. The last thing he needed was to “turn off” the Anchor before they even attempted closing the Breach. 

“Does it bother you?” She asked. “Does it mean I can call you whatever name Varric has given you as well?” August returned, smiling a little. The Herald blushed, but held August’s gaze, “He calls me … Toffee.” August did his level best not to laugh, but he couldn’t hold back his grin for a split second before schooling his expression into something more neutral. “I’d say that’s a fair trade.” he said. “Actually you can just call me Immriel and I’ll call you?” She asked, still quite rosy with embarrassment. “You can call me August.” the redhead was relieved really, he didn’t need anyone else but Varric calling him that particular nickname.

They exited the Chantry and made their way down towards the bank of the frozen lake. This was the largest space that didn’t have a bunch of trees or buildings near by and since the Herald was going to throw all manner of magic at him… best to not set anything on fire. A crowd gathered, though they tried to get in close, soon they were shooed back by the intimidating tactics of Cullen and Cassandra. Both Solas and Dorian came to see what the fuss was about. “Ah good you're both here, we can try combinations now.” Immriel looked positively gleeful at the idea. “Combinations for what exactly?” Dorian asked looking over at August, a touch of worry making it past his usually confident demeanor. “Well, August here has a gift, and we are going to see if it has a limit.” Immriel rubbed her hands together, and took up her staff.

Dorian wasn't the only one worried, August was slightly terrified. True, his “gift” hadn’t failed, August didn’t think it could, being that it came from his very existence. Still, everything had limits… well most things had limits. He hoped that he would still be alive at the end of these tests. “Let’s start with something simple.” Immriel stated, twirling her staff expertly. “Fireball coming up!” she called out, and this time Cullen and Cassandra didn’t have to make people back up, they did that all on their own. “My aim is not that bad!” Immriel grit out before turning her attention back to August. One fancy flourish later, a large flaming ball of death hurtled towards him, only to snuff out instantly as it got within August's sphere of influence. “That is VERY effective.” Dorian remarked, “I didn’t know you were a Templar.” he said, giving August an odd look. “He isn’t one, he is just…. Gifted.” Immriel replied. Dorian looked surprised and confused, Solas on the other hand. “How about ice?” 

The Dread Wolf stepped forward and unleashed a spell that would have killed August several times over, and yet as the blizzard spell howled around him, he remained, untouched by the cold. “Dorian, try to fear him and I’ll go for a lightning spell.” Immriel gestured for Solas to cancel the blizzard spell. Six bolts and an intimidating looking swath of purple-black smoke later, August stood, unharmed though still nervous. The testing went on for an hour and by the end all three mages were out of mana and August had asked for a blanket, as standing still in the cold mountain air was causing him more discomfort than the spell work. 

“Remarkable….” Immriel started to walk towards August and for a moment he panicked, back peddling comically though the snow. “I wouldn’t come too close Immriel, I might break the Mark.” The Herald slowed her approach, looking at the green gash in her hand spark. “We do still need it don’t we?” she asked, twisting her mouth in a bitter grin. “Ah, well, it was fun lads, Solas walk with me?” she turned and headed toward the gates, Dread Wolf in tow. 

August breathed a sigh of relief, and started forward as well, his feet were well and numb and he really wanted to be somewhere warm. Also food, he was starving. Dorian approached him, looking unsure, his body language cautious. “Strange I don’t feel anything when I’m around you that would even hint you have this type of gift.” He stated, a touch of curiosity coming through. “Hmm maybe you have to be trying to _do_ magic to feel something?” August shrugged, unsure as to what all the rules were when it came to reinforcing the physical plain of Thedas. Dorian was thinking, dark eyes now bright with ideas, a small (very attractive) smile on his lips. “May I?” he asked. August tilted his head, “May you what?”

The mage came in close, caution forgotten and held out his hand. “Most people like it, trust me.” August raised a skeptical eyebrow, but took the offered hand. It wasn’t as smooth as he thought it would be, there were calluses on Dorian's hand due to staff work, but it was warm, solid and utterly distracting holding onto him, even in such a casual manner. Still nothing happened, Dorian looked more and more perplexed. “I swear I am trying to reach for the Fade…. It's just, not there anymore. It sort of … whispers when you cast. Touching you it's… silence. It’s peaceful.” He looked up, catching August’s green eyes with his own. The redhead felt the world blur just a little bit, and he shifted forward. “That is a good thing I take it?” he asked softly, not wanting to break the moment. “It’s perfect.” Dorian seemed to lean in toward him, both of them drawn in. 

“Wild Card!” August jumped, dropping Dorian's hand, and the stillness between them shattered, as Bulls voice called from the gate. “Let’s go pretty boy, it supper time! And change your shirt!” Dorian huffed lightly, but didn’t comment. “Sorry.” August blushed hotly looking down at the front of his tunic before raising his eyes to the dark mage, “See you later, Dorian.” The mage hummed and “shooed” him away, looking only slightly put out. “We will finish this later.” he quietly promised, causing August to go even redder and all he could manage was to smile and nod before heading towards Bull. “Right, later.” Just what was he getting himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Life has been super busy! Thanks for all the Kudos and Comments! Love you all!


	5. Strike a match

August had never been pursued like this in his life. The “Shy Wallflower” didn’t really attract the right type of person, even more so if you were gay. He hadn’t come out until adulthood, so his experiences with other men were exceptionally small. There had been a few girls that had expressed interest, and only one boy. His introverted nature kept all sutors, prefered or not at an arm's length. So he was absolutely overwhelmed by Dorians interest, even if it was “only” flirting and yet as flustered as he was about the whole idea, he really enjoyed being around the Tevinter mage. Now with his “gift” revealed, Dorian was more than just flirtatious, he was intensely curious as well. “And you don’t know how you got this way?” Dorian asked for what might have been the third time, forcing August to keep lying to him. They were sitting by Varric's fire, discussing once more his ‘lack of memory.’ “I have no memory of anything beyond three months ago. Your guess is as good as mine.”

The lie came easily now, repeating it over and over again. Also having Bull and Krem back this up, no one publicly questioned his story. Privately, he was sure the Nightingale was still suspicious and since she had the ear of the Herald, he was somewhat worried that Immriel too could view him as less than trustworthy. (which was not very encouraging, when and if he ever got to Bulls personal mission) Though, through meeting her, she seemed to be a very down to earth person, concerned more about the present, then any past mystery. She was also eager to throw him into battle and was in the process of trying to convince her inner circle to let August come with her into the field.

Most of her current “Party” companions didn’t mind the idea, Solas being the only one to openly protest (though not to August directly, rather Immriel had mentioned it in passing.) August, himself did and didn’t want to go. He was worried about the possible “What if’s” but, excited about the chance to actually travel with the Herald. Because he was rather torn on wanting to go, he left that choice up to the Herald and Co. to argue over. “I still can’t believe she wants you to come with us.” Varric interrupted Dorian's questioning, “It’s a logistical nightmare, if you’re too close to the mages, they can’t cast, but if you get too close to Bull, Cass or Grumpy the mages can’t throw a barrier over them.” The dwarf mused turning to August, “Don’t you have an opinion on this?” August shrugged, “I’m rather undecided. I don’t know how much help I’ll be if I’m paired up with mages.” he stood, feeling restless. “I do fine when I’m with Grim, just the two of us scouting works quite well and I’m still mastering the sword Bull gave me.” Varric grunted, “So if Toffee handed you a bow…?” August nodded, “I wouldn’t do very well, though I can see the appeal, a long range attacker that can’t be taken out by a mage.”

The dwarf looked thoughtful and then, “I’ll talk to Bull.” and stood as Dorian gave his two cents. “Well, I know I wouldn’t mind the company.” the mage said lightly, watching August pace, enjoying the view. “You’re drooling Sparkler.” Varric dead-panned. “I am.” Dorian continued staring, unabashed at how obvious he was being. “I’ll be right back.” Varric chuckled and made his way from the fire. August remained silent, not knowing what response he should give, if any. Still it pleased him that Dorian, with his extremely good looks and dashing personality, thought that he was attractive. But it didn’t stop him from blushing and keeping his gaze centered on his feet. Immriel broke the tense moment, trotting up to the fire, causing August to move instinctively back from her, ever aware of how bad it would be for him to get too close.

“Simon is doing alright.” The Herald smiled, nodding towards August, “The little boy you saved..., his name is Simon.” August perked up at that, a tentative smile on his lips. “He is going to live?” Immriel gave him a huge grin, “Live? More than that, your quick action and the combined effort of a spirit mage and our Apothecary be will be… almost a normal boy.” August tilted his head, “Almost?” he asked, “According to the healer, all of his bones had to be healed, most by magic, those that couldn’t be set and several of his inner organs as well. He’ll walk, he has his mind and with some hard work, a bit of stubbornness he may even run again someday.” The Herald looked hopeful, certain even. For a moment August was overwhelmed, that his one risky choice saved a life.

A sudden desire gripped him, “Can I see him?” he asked softly, searching Immriels face. The Herald looked worried then, “It might be best to wait. I… do you think your gift would undo magic already cast?” she asked. The idea had never occurred to him, but the horror of what could happen, had him agreeing with the Herald. August would wait to see the boy. “Give the boy sometime to heal… if anything he will seek you out eventually.” Immriel sounded quite confident. August nodded, “On another note, Varric pointed out some possible issues with taking me along with you.” The small elf huffed, “Did he now?” Immriel crossed her arms, and looked out into the deepening gloom of the evening. “Where is he? So I can tell him that he is wrong.” August smiled and started to answer when the dwarf in question walked back into view, Bull in tow. They were in mid conversation, Bull looking inquisitive, and Varric appeared slightly smug. 

“I’m telling you, give Freckles a long bow and he will be able to take out mages with little fear.” Varric nodded towards the small group around his fire and continued his reasoning. “Plus, he already knows the basics of up close combat, just in case some bad guy comes at him with a pointy object.” Varric hands on his hips, looked very proud of his problem solving ideas. “Well, if Wild Card is up for a change, I’ve got no issue with it.” Bull looked at August passing the decision to him. “I’ll try it, and if we find that I can actually do archery, I’m fine with picking it up.” the redhead agreed, small smile on his lips. “See? I’m a problem solver.” Varric smiled. “This time at least.” Immriel cut in, mischievous, looking for a reaction. “Well I do have some moments….” The dwarf shrugged.

“First thing tomorrow then Wild Card.” Bull nodded towards him, “We’ll get you started,, I’m sure we have a few spare longbows.” the Captain crossed his arms, “Don’t think that this gets you out of sparring though kid, I will be making you into a true warrior.” Bull smiled, winked and moved off towards the Chargers tents. “Alright… sounds good!” August wearily called after the large Qunari. “I may not survive the week…” the redhead joked. 

“You might not… I don’t envy you kid, going toe to toe with Bull whenever he is Haven. Is it an “every morning, get your ass kicked” sort of thing?” Varric asked.

August nodded, “Usually after drills are done.”

“Ah, so you’re exhausted and then you get your ass kicked by one of the most dangerous people in Thedas. I see.” The dwarf shook his head in disbelief. “You’re kind of crazy kid.”

August smiled, “More like I didn’t have a choice. You don’t say no to Bull.”

Varric nodded, “True, very true.”

Dorian piped up. “Well the overall effect is quite pleasing to the eye.” the mage gave August a small coy smile, “I dare say, you are almost as statuesque as me.” August felt the heat rush to his cheeks and as much as he tired to keep the color from his face, he could tell he was failing as Dorian’s smile turned slightly predatory. “You are too kind Dorian.” He tried to deflect the flattery. “No, I believe I was speaking plainly.” his voice was warm, like he was holding back laughter. Varric looked back and forth between the two of them, a particular expression taking over the smug look he had been wearing. August caught it and opened his mouth to protest, but stopped himself. There wasn’t much to protest about really, as Dorian tended to flirt with just about everyone. Was the flirtation from Dorian any different from when the mage teased Commander Cullen? August didn’t even know if he would be able to tell if it was or not, he had so little experience. 

There was always the option of simply asking his gorgeous friend if all this perceived interest was something beyond playful banter. The problem with that though, August wasn’t the type to throw his heart into the path of rejections sting, so he stayed silent, and let Varric spin and weave. “Early start tomorrow, and if I am to survive the day, I should get some sleep.” the redhead bid Varric and Dorian good night, heading towards the Chargers camp. He got about half way there before Dorian caught up with him, “You are frustratingly innocent.” the mage drawled, “Or have I read the wrong meaning into all those delightful blushes you’ve graced me with?” Dorian kept pace with him for a moment before catching August by the arm, bringing the younger man to a stop. “Which is it?” he demanded looking unusually serious. August was completely taken by surprise, staring at Dorian as if the mage had grown a second head.

The warmth of the other man’s hand through the sleeve of his tunic also didn’t help his brain focus on Dorian question. The moment dragged on, August, throat dry and heart pounding tired to come up with any sort of answer, eventually stuttering out, “N-neither.” August fought to reign in his ever scattering thoughts, “I just…. Thought that you were just, ah, being you.” he could tell right away that wasn’t the answer Dorian had expected. The mages eyebrows rose, his mouth hanging slightly open and he dropped his hand. “You think I’m like this with just anyone?” he asked. August ran a hand through his growing mop of red curls, feeling like he had just kicked a puppy. “You seem to flirt quite a bit yes, and I just…” He had read Dorian all wrong, this wasn’t just flirting, and the mage had truly been interested. August took what little social courage he had and stepped into Dorian's personal space.

“I’m sorry, Dorian I am… a fool.” There was more to it than that, but going into detail could bring up questions he couldn’t comfortably answer if he wanted to keep his back story intact. The mage seemed to read his body language and apology as permission to reach a hand up to cup the right side of his face. “Do you really think so little of yourself?” Dorian asked. August hadn’t seen Dorian act so soft before. Everything about the mage spoke to openness and understanding. It was so different than his usual demeanor, August knew better than to doubt the seriousness of the gesture. He knew what answer he would typically give to Dorian’s question, that he was no one special, but he couldn’t really say that now, could he? He was the sole being on the face of Thedas immune to Magic as a whole.

“I don’t really know what to think of myself Dorian… I have no memory beyond three months ago.” August defaulted to his usual story, “Mainly I’m surprised your interested in such an imperfect person.” the last part was honest, his own insecurities laid bare. The dark mage was quick to come against August’s description of himself, “I don’t care who you were before you woke up on that beach, I care about the man before me, here and now.” Dorian leaned in, pinning August with a look, “You are kind, considerate, and agreeable to a fault.” August shook his head, unwilling to hear the words, “You are the type of man who faces down an Abomination for the sake of a child you did not know.” Dorian ran a thumb over August’s cheekbone, a small smile on his lips. “You are who I wish I could be.” he said quietly.

This was the same sentiment he held when he spoke of Felix to the Herald, a conversation months and months away, after the friendship between the elf and the Tevinter mage had been well established. It was this future knowledge that gave August the unique insight of what this moment could mean for the both of them, and that he needed to get this right. If he didn’t, he truly felt he would regret it for the rest of his days.

“Dorian…” he whispered, pushing into the mages space, raising his hands, skimming over the warm, golden skin and twining them into the other man's dark hair. At the sudden change in August’s demeanor, Dorian didn’t hesitate like the redhead would. The mage met August’s lips with his own eagerly, wrapping his free arm around August’s waist. As kisses went, In August’s view it was the best he had experienced, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to end the moment, and Doiran clearly didn’t want to either, as the mage had twined his way around August quite effectively. It stayed generally chaste, but the promise of more lingered in the air, the heat between them palpable. The young man reminded himself he needed to breathe at some point if he wanted to continue kissing this gorgeous mage in his arms, catching half a moment to pull some air into his lungs.

A cough somewhere to the right of Dorian, had the two of them truly breaking a part, though August made a point to keep touching the mage, letting one hand fall to his side, but keeping the other firmly on the back of Dorian’s neck, loving the feel of the other man's skin under his fingers. Krem stood behind them with a slightly sheepish look on his face. Clearly he had been on his way to camp, as August had been before Dorian pulled him to a stop. “Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to warn you, the Captain is on his way to his tent, might want to… continue that… somewhere else?” The Chargers second in command, didn’t say more than that, moving off with a quiet grace into the darkness of the evening. Dorian slid a hand down August’s spine, causing the redhead to shiver, “Guess that means my room then?” he said softly, eyes full of amusement, as his tease got him what he wanted: August, blushing hard, and stumbling over several different sentences as he tired to respond. “You ARE rather innocent August. But…” Dorian’s smile was truly wicked then, “I don’t mind being the one to ruin you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH hey I'm not dead! and I managed to write out another chapter! Sorry for the wait, health issues have made life a little hectic! Thanks so much for the comments and Kudos you guys are the BEST!


	6. Minor cuts and Major insults

Despite Dorian’s threat, any such steps towards being ‘ruined’ didn’t take place that night, nor any night in the following week as Immriel took him, Cassandra and Varric back to Redcliffe to confront Alexius. Though August knew what would happen there, he didn’t see (or possibly remember) any sort of alteration of reality as he continued his usually daily tasks around Haven, even making a trip into the hinterlands with Grim to drop off a few crates of supplies to the crossroads. When not running small errands for the growing Inquisition he spent his time learning how use a bow. Bull was ruthless with his training, as the Qunari had the time, which had been lacking in the last few months since coming to Haven. His adventures with climbing and the toll it could take on his hands, provided him with a small amount of endurance when it came to the new blisters that appeared on his fingers soon after the first afternoon of training. While he was able to stand most of the pain, he found at the end of the session that he couldn’t hold anything for a few hours and instead ended up sitting on a log with his hands in the snow. 

“I didn’t say you had to keep on going after the first fifty arrows Wild Card,” Bull shook his head, bemused at the immense effort August had put in in the last hour. “I don’t want to be the weak link Bull, I’m… I’m not going to be the reason that the rest of you have to act, fight, differently.” the redhead responded softly. “Injuring yourself before you even get out on the field, will not help.” The Captain pointed out. He was right of course, it would do no one any good if August truly pushed too had and did permanent damage. Least of all himself. August had the good sense to look sheepish and nod at Bull’s statement. If he permanently hurt himself in a place like Thedas, he would go from temporarily being a burden, to always being a burden. Magic would not heal him, and medicine… at that point would do little as well. 

“Yes, Captain.” he said quietly, glancing back down at his blistered fingers still stuck well into the snow. “Good. Now let’s get your hands looked at.” Bull motioned for him to follow and started off towards the Apothecary. August sighed, not looking forward to the earful he was likely to receive from the grumpiest man in all of Thedas. Adan was even surlier then the game had portrayed the potion master and August had never hit it off with the man. Being that he was the one Charger that always seemed to get hurt, he had become Adan’s number one nuisance. Which the potion master made sure to say so several times in the moments where he had to patch the redhead up. 

So it was no surprise, when Adan opened his door that the first words out of the other man's mouth were, “You are the last person, I want to see…. ever.” August heard Bull’s mild amusement as the large Qunari chuckled softly and he felt his own temper flair slightly. As much as he wanted to bite back with a remark of his own, the pain in his hands reminded him to be polite. “Good morning to you Adan, I hope you are well.” Adan grumbled something scathing under his breath, a few words were clear enough for him to catch. “Fucking moron.” The bitter man griped as he let them inside. Bull raised an eyebrow at the colorful words being applied to August, but simply crossed his arms. The Captain held that words were just words unless you gave them power over you. That your reaction to them was in your control and while the words did sting a little August didn’t take the insults to heart. Instead he took a seat and waited.

“Let’s see what you’ve done this time.” Adan peered down at the redhead, gesturing to see August’s hands. Keeping his expression as neutral as possible, August showed the Apothecary the damage. “Typical…” Adan snorted, and began working, grumbling as he did so. It was mostly unpleasant, but bearable litany of colorful opinions and the time seemed to crawl by. Adan may not have liked August but he had a reputation to uphold. The treatment would be good even if the bedside manner was nonexistent. When the last bandage was placed on his injured fingers, August could feel freedom just out of reach. 

“Now, you can and will, change those bandages every morning.” Adan shuffled over to his stores again taking out some linen and a bottle of mystery liquid that most likely included elfroot. “Do not come back here unless you spike a fever and can’t keep any food down.” August nodded, lips kept tight in a thin line, “Thank-you, Adan.” The Apothecary didn’t respond, instead simply pointed toward the door. August was happy to head out into the cold afternoon, preferring the company of snow to Adan any day of the week. “Wild Card,” Bull exited the building a moment or two behind August, “If you’re smart, you’ll take the rest of the day off and let your hands rest.” The Qunari gave him a hard look, “And I know you’re smart.” Bull knew August wouldn’t argue, and simply motioned for the redhead to follow. They headed down to the Chargers tents and August set about getting the medical supplies tucked away with the rest of his gear. He managed to do so, without spilling the mystery liquid and he headed back out into the late morning sun. 

August found that once he had finished his immediate task, he was at a loss for what to do next. Usually he would help out whomever needed an able body and a free pair of hands. Now that he technically didn’t have the free hands, who was he supposed to help? Granted… he wasn’t supposed to be doing anything for anyone today. Which meant, today could be VERY boring. August walked aimlessly for a bit, thinking as he moved through the town and eventually he found himself entering the tavern. 

He spotted Sara lounging off to the side, looking moody and clearly broadcasting she didn’t want company. His eyes traveled over the other patrons, seeing a few of the Chargers eating at a larger table. The redhead’s stomach let him know that it had been beyond a few hours since he had last eaten something. Moments later he was squished between Grim and Rocky, their resident explosives expert, with a few slices of bread and some cheese. The group teased him a bit over his newest set of bandages, as was now practically a Charger tradition. They then would settle up any bets, wagers as to what he would injure next, and place new ones for any future accidents.

“Ah, Grim has the best luck…” Dalish moped as the silent man raked in a good size pile of coins. Grim had seen August select a bow the day before at the Smithy. “So, you’ll get to travel with the Herald soon?” asked Rocky, looking over to the redhead, genuinely curious. The Dwarf was probably also a little envious as Rocky loved battle and would always be heading out on any and all extra scouting missions with the Inquisitions fledgeling fighting force. Anytime he could blow up a few bad guys, Rocky was pleased. 

Of course everyone knew the Herald always seemed to stumble into the best fights. “That’s the plan, though I doubt it will be anytime soon.” August answered, wiggling his fingers at his comrades. “You’ll be well and healed by the time the Herald gets back I’m sure.” Rocky said, sounding certain, through Grim disagreed, humming in such a way that told of his differing opinion. “Aye, don’t count my chickens before they hatch, but Wild Card has to stop hurting himself at some point, no?” Rocky questioned, and Grim chuckled in response. “Yes, I know the lad is a walking disaster area and he is the only sad sod in all of Thedas that cannot have his ills magicked away, but…” Rocky paused for dramatic effect. “I have faith in the lad.”

The whole table burst out in laughter, the uproar drawing venomous glares from the old timers in the tavern. August felt the embarrassment rushing into his cheeks even as he refused to dignify Rocky's sarcasm with an answer. The teasing eased up after a few minutes more at his expense, before the subject moved on and the spotlight shone on a different Charger.

The next few days were long and somewhat bothersome as when he tired to do anything slightly difficult with his hands it took everything in him to be patient as well as not mess up his bandaging job. The morning that he only had to wrap up some of his fingers was a much needed reprieve as he could once more use the first and second fingers of his right hand. This meant that soon he would be able to practice with Bull again and though most people wouldn’t want to spar with the huge warrior, August sorely missed their duels. 

Once a little over a week passed, hands fully recovered, August returned to his training. His first day back was brutal, but he was determined to at least strive to do some of the many drills he usually did. Apparently it only took a week and a half for him to fall behind, loose some of what he had gained since coming to Thedas. Instead of using his two-handed monstrosity, in its place he used a wooden copy and while it was not as near as wide as his blade, it did match its length. August was able to mostly handle the forms, avoiding the ones that could upset the few bandages he had left on his hands. He kept things simple, no fancy flourishes and felt generally pleased at the end of morning drills. 

“A few more days and I can go back to the usual routine.” he said to Bull. The Qunari smiled, “Good, I’ve missed our bouts.” August nodded in agreement, which didn’t surprise the Captain, but had Krem shaking his head in disbelief. “You are strange Wild Card.” Krem smiled, teasing the redhead as most of the Chargers did. “No one in their right mind, wants the Captain swinging a sword at their head.” August shrugged, his go to reaction for most things, even before he had landed in Thedas. He had to admit that he was probably one of the few who looked forward to it, most of the Chargers sparred with Bull because it was required. “I could possibly be a little mad.” August said with good humor. Krem grinned, “I’ll be glad when he is swinging his sword your way more often. I’ll get a break again.” The Captain called them all in to finish off the morning drills and went about giving them their daily duties.

August spent most of his day helping keep the road into Haven free of snow, so when the first scout from the Inquisitions growing spy network ran past, August was the first of the Chargers to greet Immriel as she returned from Red Cliff. August knew what had happened there, knew the horror of the future that could have been and yet as he greeted her, she seemed unshaken. August chastised himself, Immriel was practical, strong and steadfast. If she had been shaken, she wouldn’t show it here, in front of those who needed to see her unfazed and confident. Still, he remembered his own uncertainty he had felt playing through that section of the story. It showed how integral Immriel was, that she was the lynchpin in all of this and that without her, the world would literally fall apart.

He, of course, started looking for Dorian, and he couldn’t help the nervous flutter of his stomach as he searched for the dark mage. The redhead was unsure as to how Dorian would greet him, they hadn’t really talked about… them. Also Dorian would also be dealing with his time spent alongside Immriel in that bleak future where the Inquisition had lost. So he was completely taken by surprise when Dorian met his questing gaze with a look of immense relief, a smile and a graceful dismount, striding quickly towards him. The dark mage was anything but shy, coming right into August’s personal space, running cold hands up the redheads arms and leaning in, searching for a kiss. He was more than happy to oblige, sliding his arms around Dorian’s waist and telling himself not to be embarrassed about the less than chaise greeting from Dorian.

He felt Dorian pushing for more, but there was only so much August would give in front of the crowd moving in toward Haven. “Ah, you’re no fun.” the Altus teased, brushing his fingers along Augusts’ jaw, watching the inevitable blush creep up the younger man’s cheeks. “Later Dorian… some of us like a little privacy before sticking one's tongue down another person's throat.” August quipped, feeling bold with this confirmation that they were… whatever they were… Lovers? That didn’t quite fit, but neither did the more modern term of “boyfriend” either and “interested party” just sounded awkward. “Oh, my redhead DOES have a little inner flame. Can I stoke it later?” Dorian asked. August choked for a second at the bald interest in his companions voice and captured the hand still teasing his jawline. The man was so VERY distracting and he could feel the temptation, what would be the harm? Sneaking away for a moment, stealing some time for themselves, but no, now really wasn’t the time. 

“You...are impossible.” August found himself grinning, bringing the captured hand up to his lips, kissing it all the while holding Dorians dark gaze. Something flickered in them, a slight vulnerability and the redhead could guess why. It was no surprise for August when Dorian simply held him, wrapping his arms around the redheads neck burying his face against the would be warriors shoulder. “Just… let me hold you. The silence, your presence…. I need it.” Now would be the time for him to ask, he shouldn’t know what had happened. “What…” he needed to phrase this right, “Did something happen at Red Cliff?” August pulled him in a little, taking a bit more of the other man’s weight on him. 

“The world almost ended at Red Cliff.” Dorian looked up, his turmoil clear in his deep eyes. “We almost lost everything, I saw… a future where the enemy wins. It was horrific. Ever since our ordeal in that future, the Fade…. It. It is different, the whispers…. They are sharper.” August was never good at acting, but luckily the nervousness at Dorian expressing fear about the Fade produced a proper expression of worry and confusion. “You…. got lost in time?” He asked, hoping his question wasn’t ruining his carefully built web of lies. “Yes, my mentor, Alexius used a spell, sent us two years ahead in time. I was… so worried I wouldn’t get us out, but thank the Maker… I got us back.” August didn’t speak, unsure of his next words, so instead he placed a light kiss on Dorians forehead. 

They were silent, Dorian regaining his composure and before the mage stepped back he made a quiet request. “Stay with me tonight? Just… to sleep.” the usual tease was missing, once again Dorian was letting him in, letting him see the man behind the proud mask he wore in front of everyone else. “Of course.” The words left August’s lips before he truly realised what he was agreeing to, but if Dorian needed him, needed his special gift, to get through this first night he would stretch his boundaries. A night of blushing awkwardly in the bed of a man who had been apart of many a nightly fantasy was worth making sure Dorian could sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes yes yes, I am SLOW. SO VERY SLOW. So sorry loves for the wait! Just know I am still writing, still loving this story, so there will be updates! I'm just... lame and slow. Forgive me!


	7. Embarrassment can be a good teacher

The journey to the small hut that Dorian had commandeered was too short. August had tried to calm his nerves by taking his time and walking slowly. The cold, crisp evening only heightened his awareness, but he wouldn’t say he DIDN’T want to be standing in front of the mages door. He did. There was a large part of him that thrilled at the idea of spending the night with the mage, whether it involved falling into bed with Dorian or sleeping on the floor next to said bed. August had erred on the side of sleeping on the floor, being that Dorian, deep down, wanted something substantial. Something real, even if the mage wouldn’t admit it at this point. August, having knowledge about Dorian from his play through, was acting on this knowledge. So the would be warrior stood there, silent, clenching his bed roll hoping that he hadn’t misjudged the situation.

August breathed in, shook himself and rapped his knuckles against the rough wooden entrance. Dorian opened the door, looking slightly surprised for just a moment, before his usual bravado covered the vulnerable moment. Did Dorian not think August would hold to his word? Sure August was shy, but he truly liked the mage, enjoyed being around him, even if it often pulled him beyond his comfort zone. Dorian gestured to the bedroll, “What is this nonsense? You think I’d make you sleep on the floor? What fun would that be?” August shrugged, “I didn’t want to intrude… I-” Dorian placed a finger across Augusts’ lips, a coy smile on his own. “Silly thought, but I’ll forgive you.”

At Dorian’s insistence that August wouldn’t be sleeping on the floor, he found he didn’t quite know what to do with his bedroll. The mage noticed the awkward pause and came forward, taking the bedding out of August’s hands.It was placed on a nearby chair and promptly forgotten. August jumped slightly as Dorian came back over to him, running a hand up his arm. “Well, here is a question to ruin the mood, well if there even was one to begin with….” Dorian chuckled, “Are you the blushing virgin that I think you might be?” The mage smiled as he watched the usual blush worked its way up August’s freckled cheeks. “Or have I painted the completely wrong picture in my mind and you’ve actually been a very bad boy?” August laughed despite the rush of nerves and his rosy cheeks, capturing the other man’s hand with his own.

“I’ve never had the chance to be bad, at least, I think I haven’t.” August inwardly winced at his slip up, hoping his amendment at the end was enough to not have Dorian questioning his false past. “Of course, no memory.” Dorian looked apologetic, “How silly of me… have you had any breakthroughs? Any sort of familiarity with anything?” he pushed August towards a very messy bed while he closed the door, looking curious as the redhead sat down amongst the ruffled sheets. “Nothing, not even a sense of something elusive, but there, you know?” August ran a hand through his ever lengthening hair, long enough now that it curled over his ears and tired to figure out how he should be expressing the “frustration” of “remembering nothing”. Dorian didn’t seem to catch onto anything amiss, rather he was completely caught up on ferreting out why August had made no headway as he joined the other man on the bed. 

August took the chance to recapture Dorian’s hand, which brought a slightly mischievous smile out of the mage, but he doggedly continued on their current topic. “Maybe it's due to you being cut off from the Fade? Solas hasn’t found you yet, has he?” August shook his head no as Dorian made a slightly annoyed sounding “hmm”. “At least I haven’t heard that he has, Solas doesn’t really speak to me directly… more like he speaks to Immriel and she then comes to me.” August shrugged. “I believe he finds me... unsettling to be around.” the redhead could guess why Solas would feel that way, the elf was Fen’harel, one of the elven pantheon and a powerful mage who interacted with the Fade in a very unique way.

The bed creaked slightly as Dorian shifted, previous thoughts on August’s status as a virgin forgotten for the moment. The mage, being far too curious, mumbled out possible ideas about August’s “Fade issues” being the reason he couldn’t remember anything. August didn’t catch much of what the other man was saying, rather he relished the feeling of Dorian’s smoother hand in his, the brush of pressure at their hips as they sat side by side. It was a freedom, an experience he had longed for many, many times growing up and now that he was in the middle of it, he didn’t want the moment to pass him by. 

Eventually Dorian noticed that August wasn’t commenting on his brilliant ideas. “Are my hands that fascinating.?” he asked, teasing gently. 

“Ah-well.” August struggled for words, “I do like them.” the redhead settled on complimenting the man, ever aware that if he said something too close to the truth with regard to why he was the way he was, he would be in deep shit. “They are rather elegant aren’t they?” the other man agreed, lifting his free hand and cupping August’s jaw. He couldn't even begin to battle the new wave of nerves, the rush of heat creeping up his cheeks at Dorian’s touch. “Ah, there it is, my favorite sight in all of Thedas.” Dorian leaned forward, capturing August’s lips with his own in a gentle kiss. It was a slow, careful gesture. A sort of wordless question.

As much as August wanted to be carried away by the moment, knowing what Dorian had just gone through, held him back. When the kiss ended August found himself searching Dorian’s face, a question of his own in his eyes. “While I enjoy kissing you, and I wouldn’t complain one bit to continue…” He held up a hand as Dorian leaned forward to do just that, “I think it would be better for us to just sleep. You did just get back from a demon infested future where it all goes to shit.” Dorian snorted, “True, but sleeping is less fun.” the dark mage ran a thumb over August’s lower lip, testing the redheads resolve.

August wavered, old fears crowding close, self doubts coupled with the current circumstances pulling him one way. Desire and Dorian’s touch pulled him the other way. The sensible part of August, tinged with a slight sense of insecurity won the battle. The redhead gently captured Dorian’s teasing fingertips and gave the mage a soft smile. “We can work on fun later.” August kissed his hand, “Sleep is what you need.” Dorian sighed, relenting, though hesitant to so easily give into August’s sensible reasoning. “Well, since we are sleeping and not having fun.” Dorian stood and started unbuckling his overly complicated outfit. August knew he probably should look somewhere else instead of staring at the mage and of course, he should have expected there to be less clothes regardless of whether or not they would be having sex.

August slept in a loose pair of linen trousers, and who knew if Dorian slept in anything at all. The redhead could totally see someone like Dorian, as bold and confident as the mage was, to forgo bed clothes all together. August found himself comparing Dorian to his in game counterpart as more and more skin was revealed. The game had used the same body model for all humans and had no variety, other then overall skin tone. He had assumed, wrongly, that Dorian would be less muscular than his in game character model. It was clear that Dorian kept himself just as fit as August, knowing that while his magic gave him immense power, he couldn’t only rely on that part of himself. 

Muscles moved smoothly under the golden skin as the mage peeled away the layers. August suddenly regretted everything he had said moments earlier, the man in front of him was picturesque, though not perfect. Stray moles marked his back, and a few small scars from childhood accidents. The redhead found himself itching to trace his fingers across Dorians back, move from mark to mark, and got caught gaping as Dorian turned towards him. “At least I know you like what you see.” he remarked, looking very smug. If it was even possible, August went even more red. 

“I-I…” August looked away, only slightly ashamed of getting caught. Dorian spoke softly “Speechless I see…” the redhead huffed slightly, and responded with “Well you are breathtaking.” chuckling lightly as Dorian groaned at the horrible pun. August stood and pulled his tunic off, leaving the loose breeches he was wearing in place. “And here I dared hope you’d keep on going…” The mage lamented, pulling the last strap free of his own clothing and, as August had assumed, stood gloriously naked in the warm candle light. “You don’t play fair Dorian.” August breathed, drinking in the sight, his own sleeping attire starting to feel slightly constricting. “Never.” the mage agreed, “You should know that by now, with all the stories I’ve told you.”

He approached August, proud and shamless of his state of undress. “Still interested in sleep my dear redhead?” he asked. August chuckled, “I might be slightly regretting my earlier reasoning, though I still hold it is the right thing-” he broke off as Dorian trailed a hand up his chest. “To do.” he finished, closing his eyes, feeling the mages wandering hand come to a rest at the back of his skull. The slight pull, Dorian tangling his fingers into August’s hair and baring the redhead’s throat to the other man, had goosebumps rising across his skin. “I won’t push for what you aren’t comfortable in giving, August, but just to make tomorrow morning a little more interesting.” the mage spoke softly before leaning in and nipping lightly, just above where Augusts’ tunic would rest. The mage kissed away the sting, as August kept himself still, ever stubborn to not let this moment escalate. Sleeping was the right thing…..surely? 

“You fiend.” August touched the mark, smiling at the implications of such a gesture and felt, for possibly the first time, desired. “Well, if you need to find me tomorrow morning, check Varric's fire pit.” he joked. Dorian nodded, “Where I’m sure he’ll try and drag the details out of you.” letting his hand fall from August’s hair to rest just over the warriors rapidly beating heart, “Feel free to only say good things about me.” the mage smiled. August somehow managed a slightly carefree shrug, “Or I say nothing at all and keep him in suspense. He likes a good mystery.” Dorian gestured to the bed, “So what side do you like to sleep on?” Such a simple question, and yet the warm hand on his skin, the closeness of this gorgeous, naked, man made thinking an arduous task. 

“Either is fine.” August looked down at the small bed, giving Dorian a sideways glance noticing that the mage wasn’t making any move to get into the bed first. They stood there, somewhat awkwardly, neither willing to hop into the bed before the other. In the end, August ended up climbing into bed first, breaking the stalemate as his nerves got the better of him. Dorian looked pleased, the smug look from before reappearing for a moment. The mage didn’t take long to join August under the covers, the small bed barely holding the two of them, but Dorian turned his back towards the redhead and curled himself against August’s chest. The thrill that shot up his spine as Dorian got comfortable was akin to rock climbing without a rope. 

August couldn’t help himself, and soon had wrapped his arms around the mage, bringing Dorian closer. Unlike almost anyone else he got close to here in this world, Dorian smelt nice. The other man smelt like a mix of what he would call sandalwood and citrus fruits back on Earth, a fresh, light scent he couldn’t get enough of. “You are the definition of unfair.” August whispered lightly against the back of Dorian’s neck. He knew it would take forever for him to fall asleep with Dorian in his arms like this, his skin was alive wherever their bodies were touching.

Dorian turned slightly in August’s arms, eyes hooded, desire evident even with the covers pulled over them both. “But you like it.” he said softly, reaching up and running fingers along August’s cheek. The mage shifted slightly, coming into contact with August’s own source of frustration, and grinned. “OH yes, you DO like it, my dear redhead.” Laughing quietly as August proceeded to hide his face in the shared pillow, embarrassed beyond belief. “Maker save this poor soul.” he teased, before placing a light kiss on August’s shoulder and settled back down, his back against August’s chest.

Silence fell and the minutes ticked by. The tension in Dorian’s body lessened moment by moment as well concealed exhaustion took over and it wasn’t long before the mage was well and truly asleep. August didn’t quite know what to make of the intimacy of the moment,but he reveled in it. The knowledge that Dorian, for the first time in his life, didn’t have to worry about demons, or dreams. Knowing there would be no sharp whispers lingering on the edges of the mages consciousness, that the thinning of the Veil from the Breach held no danger and it was simply because August was August. 

For the first time in August’s life, he felt necessary. Maybe it was due to how shy he was, being overshadowed by those more extroverted, and confident. Maybe it was due being the third son in a family of sons, but he had always felt insignificant. Now, here, in this tiny bed, with his body on fire and certain he would get no sleep, that feeling did not haunt him. Tomorrow would be wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH hey I updated! SO this chapter was REALLY difficult to write. Trying to balance the give and take between these two is just... erk. It is tough, so very tough. SO THAT BEING SAID, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and let me know if I did the balance thing ok, or if it was awkward AF. Thanks so much for the comments, Kudos and bookmarks, you guys are AWESOME. I love you all!


	8. Boy Interrupted.

He was woken up by light kisses, like butterfly wings across his cheeks, and then the sensation started traveling downward. August groaned lightly, exhausted, as he hadn’t slept well. His desire had kept him awake long after Dorian had fallen asleep. August supposed he should be a little grateful as he HAD gotten a few hours of rest. A wicked, questing hand truly brought him awake, sparks sliding up his skin. When he opened his eyes, the sight that greeted him was surreal. The blanket was pushed aside and Dorian, basking in his morning glory, had a talented hand down August’s sleeping trousers.

The mage watched him, eyes dark with lust, his hand still firmly around… _well_. Dorian gave a quick stroke, testing the waters and looked extremely pleased as he drew a breathy moan out of August. This was completely new for August, as all he had were heated dreams from back on Earth. A few of those dreams even included Dorian who, at the moment, had August completely at his mercy.

Dorian kissed his way back up to August’s mouth, all the while keeping his hand busy. The mage held nothing back, sliding his tongue across the seam of August’s lips, asking to be let in. The red head happily complied, tangling his fists into Dorian’s sleep tousled hair. Heat curled low in his belly, and a heady shiver twined it’s way up his spine. Dorian was clearly aroused as well, wearing nothing, his own desire pressed against August’s thigh. 

August moaned, the sound mostly muffled as they kissed, and kissed, the sound of it almost sinful. A loud, sudden and soon to be insistent knocking on the cabins door had them both jumping apart, the moment ruined. Dorian’s hand stilled, and the look the mage shot the door was down right murderous. The muttered threat wasn’t very clear, but the intent was easily read even with August still half distracted by the blood rushing to a very particular area. The sound of Bull’s voice from the other side of the door was a cold shock to his system and he was suddenly very aware of how this looked. 

He knew the captain didn’t like Tevinter, probably hated it due to the two hundred year war going on between the Qunari and the once great empire. AND here he was in a Tevinter mages bed, with every intention of letting Dorian do whatever he pleased. No wonder Bull sounded annoyed. “Alright ‘Vint, I know Wild Card is in there, he missed morning drills.” which August hadn’t missed a single morning, even when he had been injured. He often would simply watch from the sidelines, or participate as he was able. August glanced toward the window, and to his mounting horror, it looked like it was close to lunch time.

He was five hours late.

Dorian looked over to him, flushed, lips slightly swollen, presenting the perfect picture to infest August’s thoughts for the rest of the day. “Good morning.” August whispered, before leaning forward and kissing those sinful lips. 

“It was a good morning,” Dorian groused, “But someone has ruined it!” The mage yelled the second part of his sentence, pitched so Bull could hear him through the door. A soft sort of chuckle made it through to the pair of them, as clearly Bull was happy that he had ruined the mages morning. 

“Good.” Was all Bull had to say about Dorian’s commentary and then any and all concerns for what Dorian thought of the matter were promptly set aside as Bull continued speaking. “Wild Card, come see me when you’re done there, the Herald has a mission for the Chargers.” The Qunari didn’t wait for August to call out an answer, rather the two men heard the captain crunch off through the snow, probably back towards the Chargers tents. 

“So, when he says “come see me when you’re done”, does that mean we can keep going?” Dorian smiled, looking vindictive. 

August shook his head, sitting up and sadly pulling Dorian’s hand from it’s previous resting place. “That is not what that means, and I will not keep him waiting. I’ll have to run laps around the lake if I make him wait.”

Dorian snorted, looking slightly insulted, “I would be giving you the best hand job of your life, my dear redhead.” the mages eager fingers journeyed forward, intent on doing just that. August smiled, flattered at his lovers enthusiasm, but caught those questing fingers within his own and raised them to his lips, kissing them. “And for every minute you keep me here, means another lap around the lake… the frozen, snow strewn lake.” August wished that he could stay, he wanted to, and yet…. The punishment that would come after. He doubted he could survive it with his health intact. A thought came to him then, “You don’t want me to catch a cold, do you?” August asked, looking smug as he found a way to appease Dorian. “If I catch a cold, I can’t come visit you again tonight. The Herald would have my hide if I got a valued party member sick.” 

Dorian, bless him, looked hopeful, as well as pleased. “You’ll come tonight?” Does that mean we get to have fun?” August rolled out of bed, pulling Dorian up onto his knees and re-tangled his hands into the mages hair, leaning in and answering Dorian’s question with a kiss. Dorian slid his hands around August’s waist, bringing them flush together, prying yet another moan from the would be warrior. “We can have… all the fun you can possibly convince me to have.” August teased. He dragged up some willpower and stepped away from Dorian, immediately missing the other man’s warmth. He heard the mage lay back down and make a sort of unhappy “hrumph” sound as August turned, bending down to fish his shirt from the cold floor. “And you say I’m the tease.” Dorian huffed, “See you tonight my dear redhead.”

August nodded, while gathering up his unused bedroll from the chair. “See you tonight Dorian.” August approached the bed, and bent down to place a kiss on Dorian’s messy bedhead before heading out the door into the crisp afternoon. He had watched enough movies to know just what this short journey would be termed back on Earth: “The walk of shame”. Yet August wasn’t ashamed of anything, even if he had been in the bed of the “Dreaded Tevinter Magister” rather he was pleased, delighted. If he was honest too, there was some lingering embarrassment, because that was a part of him, and he had yet to transform into something else. 

The mark Dorian had so eagerly placed just above his collar felt like a brand on his skin, burning under any stray glance as he passed by the villagers of Haven. While he was sure that most of the people he passed by didn’t even register he was there, he couldn’t quell the feeling of being stared at, all bed-ruffled so late in the day. The teasing would come, from his fellow mercenaries most likely, and possibly from one or two members of the Heralds inner circle. 

Varric would just want details, all of them, and then he would put them in a book, or maybe just one of his short stories. Which meant that the possibility of his love life being read by half of Thedas could rise by quite a bit, as Varric was a very popular (and infamous) author. August shuddered at the thought. No Varric would not get any details out of him. It was far more likely that Dorian would spill the beans. The mage could be subtle when he wanted to be, but Dorian was also the type to be completely and unapologetically blunt when it suited him.

A course of high pitched shouts and a few wolf whistles greeted him as he entered into the Chargers little piece of Haven. August smiled sheepishly and hurried to his tent, returning his bed roll to it’s usual spot. It didn’t take long for the commentary to begin, as the young man moved back out towards his fellow Chargers, a certain exposilves expert jumped right in. “Had a spot of fun last night lad?” Rocky chuckled, giving August a lecherous grin. The dwarf nodded toward the mark and comically wagged his shaggy eyebrows. “Can’t deny something happened lad.” 

August glanced down and then back up, “No comment.” he tired to keep his composure, but as usual he failed despite his efforts to keep the embarrassment at bay. The group laughed, and a few members started throwing out ideas as to just how much “something” had indeed taken place. Bull strode up to the group, silent for a moment, looking as if he hadn’t lectured August out of having a morning to remember a short while ago. “Alright Chargers, form up!” The teasing stopped for the moment as the mercenary group gathered around their captain. “Alright, the Herald recently cleared out a large mountain villa in the Hinterlands and she is wanting to make use of the place.”

August remembered the villa from the game of course, he had often wondered why the Inquisition never claimed it for themselves. It certainly wasn’t as defenceable as the keep you claimed in Crestwood, but still useful, especially if modifications were made. It could make a much more stable staging point for the fledgling movement within that large area. Also it would mean that the bandits that had been there couldn’t move back in. 

Bull continued, revealing the Chargers purpose, “A small group of craftsmen are being sent to militarize it. The Chargers will be traveling with the group, for security, as well as lending a hand with some of the heavy lifting. You will be staying with the craftsmen until Cullen can replace your number with his own recruits.” August shifted uneasily. How long would something like this take realistically? Game progression wasn’t really an accurate way for him to guess how fast medieval technology could get a building…. Reconstructed. If he really thought about it, his best guess was that it would take months for the building. Cullen wouldn’t have them staying there for too too long right? It wouldn’t be that long before Inquisition soldiers would replace them at the villa would it? Dorian was going to be pissed.

“You’ll be heading out tomorrow morning, bright and early.” Bull winked towards August who, as usual, turned bright red as the whole of the Chargers started teasing him again.Being that he didn’t really want to continue being the butt of the joke, August took his leave.

The rowdy cheers followed him almost to Varric's fire, just loud enough to draw an odd look from the Dwarf. August didn’t catch it, as he was trying to figure out how he was going to explain to a certain Tevinter mage that he was probably going to be away for three months, possibly more. 

“Have fun last night kid?” Varric’s voice jolted August from his thoughts, his hand absently touching the mark. The Dwarf did not tease the redhead, rather he had a pleased grin on his lips. “Well good, I had hoped all those looks you were both sharing meant something.” Varric turned and took a seat, looking ready to unleash his curiosity. Best to cut him off at the pass, so to speak, before the writer could truly get going.

August held up a hand, “No comment.” The grin turned into a rueful chuckle and Varric lifted both hands in surrender. August felt slightly relieved that, for the moment, the Dwarf wasn’t going to interrogate him about his suddenly active romantic endeavors. It was then that Dorian decided to make his first appearance of the day outside, looking completely pristine. August felt rather rumpled in that moment, unfinished and clumsy. It shouldn’t have surprised him, the mage almost always seemed completely put together and ever ready with a witty comeback. Dorian approached the fire with the graceful ease of a man who had slept well. 

“Or maybe I had it wrong.” Varric commented, mostly to himself. Dorian gave the writer an odd look, not really understanding just what the Dwarf was talking about. Before Varric could clear up Dorian’s confusion, August grabbed the mage and firmly lead the other man from the fire pit.

Dorian looked even more confused, and slightly impatient. August didn’t leave him waiting long, “The Chargers assignment…” the would be warrior hesitated.

“Yes?” The dark mage prodded.

“I’ll most likely be gone for the next three months.” August rushed out, words soft with slight worry.

“What?!” Dorian squawked.

Well, everyone would have heard that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and another chapter! Hopefully you all enjoyed it! I had a bit of a bump here and there getting this chapter done. Work has picked up, so it is taking a bit to make time to write. So sorry for the wait lovely readers! Also ty for the huge response, all those Kudos @_@. You are all too kind!


	9. This is not a chapter, just a note for you guys

Hey everyone, sorry that this isn't an actual chapter nine. I had a friend die a few days ago, quite suddenly and I don't know when I'll get the next bit up. I ask that you be patient with me, as it might be a longer wait then usual for the next chapter. Ty for your support so far!


	10. Time Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a character in it, Joanne, who is a representation of the friend that I lost. I think she would get a kick out of being in my story, so I wrote her in. I also wrote her a note that I would like to share with you guys.
> 
> Jane,
> 
> You made Sunday's fun. Knowing that I'd get a warm greeting, a bright hello and an easy smile when I came into close; it made my day better. Your dry whit, and sharp humor always made me laugh. You stood up for me, and cared about what was going on in my life. I will miss you and I'll keep your memory in my heart. I am grateful for your friendship. Thank-you Jane, with all my heart. 
> 
> Goodbye

The air was cold, still and the morning sun was just creeping above the horizon. It was August’s favorite time of day, so much possibility lay in the hours ahead. Sure most of it was planned, taken up by working on the massive Chateau, but August had learned, nothing was set in stone this far out in the middle of nowhere. Just a few days before there were rumors at the Crossroads that another batch of rifts had opened. August had yet to see a rift in person and had been mulling over the idea if he could affect a rift like Immriel could. Rifts also meant that a dispatch had been sent to the Herald. The redhead was hoping that soon a messenger would show up, announcing that Immriel was on her way here (and hopefully Dorian). This was why he was up so early, eager to intercept any Inquisition agent passing through the newly re-enforced gate. It had been three months and two weeks since seeing Dorian. There had been letters sent back and forth, about ten in all, which were now August’s most precious possessions on the face of Thedas. 

As usual, Dorian had a very colorful opinion about everything and though the Nightingale most likely read everything that went back and forth between the two men, that did not stop the mage from saying whatever he wanted. There were two letters in particular that STILL made August extremely embarrassed (and rather excited) where Dorian detailed everything he would do TO August when the warrior returned.

Yes, he could call himself that now, a warrior and though Bull could still best him on a one on one basis, the bandits in the hills of the Hinterlands were nothing compared to his captain. While he had gained a new identity, he had lost another and he was quite in the middle of dealing with the fact he had taken another man’s life.

Grim and August, had volunteered to take on regular patrol duty. It was during one of these journeys that they stumbled upon a few of the former cultists from further in the valley running from remnants of the bandits the Herald had evicted from the Chateau all those months before. It had been a bright and warm afternoon, contrasting starkly with the chaos of the chase, the engagement of battle and the grief in the aftermath. An older man had gotten caught in to the crossfire, trying to get his wife and daughter out of the way. He lived, though barely, and was still recovering from a very nasty sword wound. The bandit who had wielded the blade though, did not survive past August’s first set of forms. 

Fighting was messy, horrifying and blindingly quick. Grim had taken out the other two bandits; one with a well placed arrow, as August had taken down his own target, and the other with a flurry of sharp stabs from his daggers. August took one look at the gore littering the ground and was instantly sick. There was blood on his hands now, he had taken a life out of the world and as much as the others said it needed to be done. August was still troubled. He wanted Dorian, desperately, to be here with him, even to just stay at his side. A silent, welcome comfort. Krem had said many times that he should weigh the lives of those saved against the one he took. It only helped a little.

It had been the old man’s wife that had mostly “slapped” August out of his post battle funk. Her name was Joanne, though she told everyone to “just call her Jo”, what most of the Chargers ended up calling her was Grandma. She wasn’t the sweet, quiet grandma, that knitted little things for babies. Rather she was the type that wouldn’t let you get away with anything, demanded the best from you and always told you exactly what she was thinking. She wasn’t cruel in her honesty, but she had “no time for nonsense.” 

Joanne had sought out August and Grim a few days after being settled in with the small staff at the Chateau. She thanked them both, “If you young lads hadn’t shown up when you did Harkin and I would be dead, Catherine… well worse then dead.” She bowed slightly, “I thank-you.”

Grim nodded and grunted his equivalent of “You’re welcome.” 

August nodded, “I’m glad we were there.” he tired to come across as confident, self-assured, but something in his face or body language gave him away. She gave him a piercing look, hands on hips, “That was your first battlefield.” She stated, “First kill.” Her eyes weary and hard saw more than most. “If it gets easier, that’s when to truly worry. You did what was demanded of you, a horrid, ghastly thing but, if you hadn’t acted as you did, worse would have happened because of inaction.” August, shocked into silence at how perceptive the old lady’s words were, didn’t react in time as Joanne basically slapped the back of his skull. He flinched, the hit startling him rather than hurting him and he gaped a little, giving Joanne a surprised look. “So snap out of it.”

As she moved away, August realized that the soft odd sounding wheeze he was suddenly hearing was Grim laughing. You wouldn’t think it, but Grim had quite the sense of humor. The silent man clasped August’s shoulder (still laughing) and moved off to work on his next task. August had been grateful for the “wake up call” Joanne had given him and he was able to get through the rest of the day feeling lighter, part of his burden lifted. He wouldn’t say he “treasured” the moment, but he certainly was grateful for Joanne and her insight.

Breaking from the memory, he caught sight of a figure making their way up the road. August pushed off from the cold stone he had been leaning against on the ramparts. He jogged toward the gate, shouting at the sleepy guard that they had a visitor. Rocky and Dalish were on morning watch, both moving to better vantage points along the mostly finished walls. While the figure was most likely an Inquisition agent, it was standard procedure to act as if they were not all that friendly.

This was the wilderness after all.

The agent that arrived wasn’t one he was familiar with, either from the game or his time spent in Haven. The man was friendly enough, dropping off several letters for different members of the Chateau staff and sitting down for breakfast since his main task had been completed.

August itched to approach the man to see if he knew that the Herald was planning with the appearance of the new rifts. It ended up that the agent had handed off instructions to Krem on that specific manner. The mercenary lieutenant took pity on the redhead and let August read the neatly written missive. Immriel was indeed on her way, along with a certain Tevinter mage. August could feel his heart pick up as he read a note at the bottom, clearly added after the fact by Dorian himself. 

It was very short and to the point.

“Be ready.”

August immediately went as red as his hair, goosebumps rising along his skin, and murmured a slightly strangled thank-you to Krem. He handed back the parchment, ignoring Krem’s cat-like grin. “They’ll be here in a weeks time.” Krem glanced down at the note, smile still on his lips, “Plenty of time to prepare.” A week seemed so far away and yet, so soon at the same time. Dorian would be here before August knew it. It would be the idle moments that would seem to go on forever and those would be the moments he would carefully take out one of Dorian’s letters.

If it was a lull during the day, it would be one of the eight where they mage would rage about Vivian or one of the Sisters and their attitudes towards magic, Tevinter, or Dorian himself. Colorful insults would dance across the page with grace and whitt. There were points where August only realized he was reading Dorian mocking someone AFTER finishing a portion of the letter. If it was a more private moment, one of the other two letters would be re-read. It was self inflicted torture, leaving August flushed and wanting.

He was his own worst enemy.

It ended up that he wasn’t there when the Inquisitor and her party arrived at the Chateau. They had arrived mid-morning when Grim and August were out checking on a rumor about a large bear stalking the area around one of the newly set up roads in the western part of the Hinterlands. The sun had set by the time the two men had made it back to the mostly completed fortress. As soon as they entered through the gate, Dorian was there to “greet” him, that is ignore Grim completely and shove August against the cold, stone wall, silencing the red-head with a hard kiss. Grim didn’t stay to watch the show, which August appreciated as Dorian had thrown propriety out the proverbial window. Dorian didn’t care that people could be looking when pressed a firm thigh between August’s legs and slid a hand up under the back of the warriors tunic. He didn’t care that someone could (and probably did) hear August’s very surprised moan against the mages mouth. No Dorian didn’t give a flying fuck, that much was clear. 

Finally after a VERY thorough and heated exchange Dorian broke away slightly from August, “I did warn you.” he spoke breathlessly, hands curing through the other man's hair, “You are the biggest tease, you tempt me, refuse me and then leave.” the mage huffed dramatically. “You used all my best moves.” Dorian stepped back and straightened his robes, smoothing his mussed hair back into place. August stayed where he was, leaning against the wall for support, pleasantly stunned, and as usual, glowing with embarrassment. The warrior was so glad that cellphones were not a thing in Thedas, and he prayed that Varric had been nowhere near them to see the display.

He gathered the little bits of himself that Dorian had strewn about in his mind and found his voice, “Miss me, did you?” August quipped, a rare mischievous smile on his lips. Dorian blinked, as if confused by the new confidence in his lover. August’s face softened, “I… really missed you too.” he pushed off of the wall, legs steady and pulled Dorian into a tight hug. “And I am so glad you are here now.” Dorian scoffed, playing off the moment as insignificant, but the mage clung to August just as desperately. “I meant to try and send one more letter before you came, but I couldn’t find the words.” August drew back, raising a hand to the mages cheek, brushing a thumb over the other man’s cheek bone. “I-I have something to tell you, and… it will not be easy, or pleasant.” 

Dorian looked worried, all at once the indifference in his stance melted away into genuine concern. “I’m all ears Amatus.” 

They ended up going for a walk on the battlements, August going over his first real battle, speaking then about Joanne and her family, and her words that helped him. “She sounds delightful.” Dorian smiled, the tease light in his voice, “Got right down to the point of it, I like her, no beating around the bush.” the mage could see August was still troubled by the whole thing, though working through it. “It doesn’t change my opinion of you, my dear redhead. What Joanne said is true.” Dorian watched August nod, though it was half-hearted in it’s execution, the mage decided not to push August further. The warrior was getting there, in his own time and he was grateful that Dorian could see that. 

“So, onto something else I’m curious about.”August rushed into the question, pushing past the somewhat awkward moment before. “When is Immriel planning to deal with the Rifts? I believe the report spoke of two new ones.” August stopped walking and semi-sat on the wall, Dorian turned and crossed his arms, thinking.

“I’m pretty sure she means to march us out tomorrow to deal with it all.” the mage drew close, leaning against the taller portion of the battlements. “Why? Are you going to ask to come with us?” Dorian asked, looking over at him.

“Yes… I…” August ran a hand through is hair. “I want to see what happens when I get close to a Rift. I want to see what happens. It’s a tear in the Veil right? With the Fade on the other side?” The mage nodded, looking curious waiting for August to finish his thought. “Maybe… maybe I can help Immriel… maybe I can close it too.” 

Dorian let out a breath, eyes bright with… something. “Well, we will see, won’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you all for your kind comments and support. I read them all. Each one helped. You guys are... I have no words. Just know you helped.  
> Thank-you for your Kudos, bookmarks and time!  
> If there is anyone, friend, family, whoever that you haven't said hi too in a while or I love you or hey I'm thinking of you. Go and say it.


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